C'est La Vie
by Kitsune Yarisha
Summary: The War is finally over and it seems that a time of peace has been reached in the Wizarding World. Wizards and Muggles alike are rejoicing around the world but for two people, the war has left scars that have not yet healed. Slash, Harry and Draco.
1. Chapter 1

**C'est La Vie  
By Kitsune Yarisha**

A/N: The War is finally over and it seems that a time of peace has been reached in the Wizarding World. Wizards and Muggles alike are rejoicing around the world but for two people, the war has left scars that have not yet healed. H/D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Harry Potter characters, potions, spells, or any other facet of the series mentioned in this fan work nor do I make a profit from it. The entire franchise belongs, with respect, to one Mrs. J.K. Rowling along with several toy, film, and etcetera companies that are noted and dully mentioned.

* * *

**Chapter One: **Understanding

"If I knew you and you knew me,

If both of us could see clearly,

And with inner sight divine

The meaning of your heart and mine,

I'm sure we would differ less,

And clasp our hands in friendliness;

Our thoughts would pleasantly agree,

If I knew you and you knew me." – Nixon Waterman

"A simple rule in dealing with those who are hard to get along with is to remember that this person is striving to assert his superiority; and you must deal with him from that point of view." – Alfred Alder

--

_Scourgify_, among other wonderfully brilliant cleaning spells, had been an asset of monumental portions in the cleaning of Grimmauld Place.

What had once been a gloomy tunnel was now a glowing and comforting hallway with new wallpaper and paint, as well as a brand new, brighter carpet to replace the threadbare one that had previously adorned the wood floors for god knows how many years. The gas lamps hadn't been replaced but they had been scrubbed, shined, and lit.

Mrs. Black seemed a bit more civil after her house had been scrubbed down, her frame polished, and her ink touched up by an extremely well-paid _pureblood_ artist. She also seemed just a tad bit more respecting of Mrs. Weasley now, even if she still went on a screaming spree to remind everyone how much she detested mudbloods and blood traitors in her house.

Harry couldn't help but silently thank Mrs. Weasley for taking it upon herself to clean up what was now Harry's house and making it sparkle in all the right places. The young man was sure that if Sirius had been alive he would have been very pleased with what the house really looked like under all that dust and mold that had inhabited it for so long.

He pushed open a less than redone door and frowned in thought. Really, he hadn't ever needed to go this far down into Grimmauld Place ever before and the chill was reminding him of the Potion's room in the dungeons at Hogwarts; mildly appropriate if you knew who was being held down here.

Hermione Granger followed him closely into the last hall they had to cross before they reached the room the former Death Eater had been dragged into.

Harry could tell she was deep in thought as they passed a portrait of an older generation Malfoy and Black chatting away over cups of Earl Grey.

"Just in here, I believe," Hermione whispered, her voice still echoing in the hall as she opened the door for him.

He inclined his head in thanks and stepped into the gloom beyond the hall.

"Potter."

The chill that set over him was replaced by an icy torrent of wind that accompanied that voice. He winced and smiled unsurely. "Malfoy, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to Grimmauld?"

Draco Malfoy had barely changed in the year that had transcended the war. Even now, he was still tall and slender with cold, light grey eyes set elegantly in his pale face. His hair had grown longer, brushing his shoulders ever so slightly and his face had grown from sharp-featured to more handsomely define. From where he sat on the couch, he looked every bit the aristocrat he was born to be.

The world around him, however, had not been left so untouched and composed. The entire Wizarding World was set on having elections take place to rehire witches and wizards to the Ministry of Magic and Death Eaters were to report to the newly established Ministry just as the Mudbloods once had to.

Of course, several people were still outraged because a good few were suspect to follow Voldemort without the Dark Mark and therefore weren't considered Death Eaters.

"I wanted to see my godcousin," he said, smirking at the twin looks of astonishment and confusion. He motioned to Harry as the one he was speaking about. "I owe you a Wizard debt. Two fold, I presume, since you saved my life twice before you defeated Voldemort."

Hermione flinched and covered her mouth, looking away at the mention of the deceased Dark Lord.

"Dear God, Merlin. You can't tell me you still can't say his name? Most Death Eaters wouldn't call his name out of respect and then afterword it was jinxed!"

Harry didn't comment on Hermione's act. She was still pretty upset about losing Fred, Remus, and Tonks to that man and refused to ever say his name. Besides, he was surprised Malfoy could say it so casually. "You don't need to pay me back. There's nothing I need or want you to do."

Draco's eyes casually caught his own. A smile crept over his face, not a mocking one but it wasn't anything else. "I won't use this debt in my favor. I'm merely saying that if something comes up that you need, just ring, won't you? I refuse to be indebted to you." He paused and then added very quietly, "Father has become very ill and I expect he won't last much longer. That must be good news to you, but Mother and I will be left with a lot of power, wealth, and land. I could give you a lot of that."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'll think of something."

There was a short pause that sailed through the air at that moment. The fact that a civil conversation had just passed between them was actually very remarkable.

For the first time since the fateful meeting in the robe shop, Harry felt as though Malfoy considered him his equal. He tried desperately to hide the small grin that had worked up on his face.

"Granger, please, pull for self together, won't you? Some of us aren't ready to experience a second bout of crying for to-." Draco abruptly stop speaking, adverting his eyes from both of them with a blush.

Wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, she mumbled, quietly, "Oh, you poor thing. You must be worried sick about your father." Without a thought or care, she moved forward to embrace Draco around the shoulders, placing her head delicately on his shoulder. "Crying helps, you know. That's something I learned this last year…" She kept on talking even though Draco had frozen beneath her touch.

Startled and clearly unsure, Draco jerked to look up at Harry. His eyes conveyed what he would not speak.

Harry's grin broadened and he set himself up on a stool near the door and made gestures that caused Draco to double take.

The blond haired boy tugged his arms from beneath the woman's body over his and place two hands gently and hesitantly on her shoulders, one patting carefully. He paused and spoke, "I'm fine. Father is important and I look up to him, yes, but he's nothing compared to what Severus was to me. Severus and I had a shared pain and understanding; he felt more like a father to me than Father ever has."

Hermione nodded, silently, urging Draco on by moving and taking a seat beside him. She could care less what had transpired between them back in school for the last six years. He was another grieving soul who had lost an important someone just like she had.

"It isn't worth the pain of speaking," he said coldly, resolutely but looked something akin to apologetic when Hermione drew away, knowing she had overstepped her bounds.

"Of course," she said sullenly, drawing into herself and walking the length of the room to the fireplace that sat plainly against the wall. She placed a log or two inside and lit a dancing fire with a tip of her wand and a murmured spell, apparently trying to chase away at the coldness that so suddenly plagued her as it did Harry.

Draco pulled a folded set of parchment from his cloak and shook it open. The cover of the Daily Prophet stared grimly into the faces of those in the room as it displayed moving pictures of a snaking line of Death Eaters set for a cold, unwelcomed reintroduction with the bowels of Azkaban. "You've read it, haven't you? They're searching for anyone seen on the wrong side at the last battle." He left unspoken the sentence that would befall those who had supported Voldemort's uprising and the rebuilding of Azkaban to contend with the loss of its most treasured guards and the breechings it had suffered during the War.

With a twisted countenance, Harry nodded. The emotions of pleasure and guilt waged a war inside him that still he had yet to face. So many of those people had killed his friends and family and yet, they were still people to Harry and he knew some of them were still innocent. Innocent like one Draco Malfoy.

"They came to the Manor," Draco drawled calmly, folding the paper once more and laying it at the open spot by his side. "I'm to go on trial at the Ministry this forthcoming Sunday. I was, after all, seen rambling off to a known Death Eater that I was on his side and he was a great fool. Additionally, many have testified against Father and me. Against the former, they have a case. Against me, they have little more than words of the wicked."

Hermione frowned.

Harry knew what she was thinking of and beat her to the question she seemed a little desperate to ask. Carefully, the brunette mused aloud, "You don't have a Dark Mark." It wasn't a question even if it did sound like one.

Black robes slid out of uniform and a glove that struggled to stay in place was pulled away. Pale, unblemished skin turned rosy in the cool air of the lower rooms of Grimmauld.

Little more than the words of the wicked, was right. Draco didn't have a Dark Mark which meant the Ministry couldn't take him in unless he either confessed or the Dark Lord himself testified against him. Luckily for him, said Dark Lord couldn't very well breathe or walk let alone speak against someone's innocence. Secondly, Harry planned on being present for this trail and for making a case in Draco's favor, if one should be needed.

The glove was replaced, after the witch and wizard had gotten an eyeful and mumbled a few charms to make sure the mark wasn't being concealed somehow, and the sleeve and robes that had been shaken away where now being pulled firmly into place.

"It would also seem that the Manor is not fit to live in at the moment. I'll be buying a flat in London and demolishing the mansion and having it rebuilt. All this, of course, will happen after my trail and clearing so the Ministry can go through the house and take what they'd like. Father will either die soon or be taken to Azkaban to die in and Mother will likely as not wait for the Manor's repair at one of her relative's home."

A thought crept quietly into the very mind of Harry Potter. It hissed and whispered on an idea that moved forward to the light and spoke an action that twisted itself free of mind and into words.

"Why don't you stay at Grimmauld instead of buying a flat?" Harry asked, suddenly.

Hermione gave him a strange look as if she didn't know quite what to make of the sudden offer.

Grey eyes looked deeply into Harry's for a long silent moment, as if judging the sincerity of those words. Draco sighed and closed his eyes, breaking the scrutiny in favor of massaging his temples against what was most likely an oncoming headache. "Very well," he murmured, "I'll take you up on your offer. I'll stay at Grimmauld Place until the Manor is completed."

It was Draco's turn to be stared at by Hermione's unwavering stare of confusion. Evidently, she thought she had missed something.

Harry would speak to her later.

"At the moment, however, I'm well overdue for my return home and Mother will be worrying herself into frenzy soon. I will return to Grimmauld only after the trail unless an emergency happens to come up. Thank you, Potter, Granger, for your time and understanding. Until we meet again." Draco stood and inclined his head to them in farewell before apparating away to his home far from Grimmauld Place.

Hermione extinguished the fire she had begun only minutes before and gave Harry a pointed look as they left the lowest level of Sirius's old home.

Clearly, Harry had some explaining to do.

* * *

_To Be Continued_

A/N: I don't know if anyone's done something like this before but I've never read it. At first, I thought of continuing on the original story with no regard to the seventh book but somehow it just didn't feel right. I scraped about half of the original peace and began anew from there, quickly trying to imagine the new plot. Hermione, though it seems at first, doesn't accept Draco at all, but that brief moment she lets down prejudice because finally she has someone to grieve with. Of course, Draco denies her such comfort.


	2. Debt

**C'est La Vie  
By Kitsune Yarisha**

A/N: The War is finally over and it seems that a time of peace has been reached in the Wizarding World. Wizards and Muggles alike are rejoicing around the world but for two people, the war has left scars that have not yet healed. H/D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Harry Potter characters, potions, spells, or any other facet of the series mentioned in this fan work nor do I make a profit from it. The entire franchise belongs, with respect, to one Mrs. J.K. Rowling along with several toy, film, and etcetera companies that are noted and dully mentioned.

* * *

**  
Chapter Two: **Debt

"Small debts are like small shot; they are rattling on every side, and can scarcely be escaped without a wound; great debts are like cannon, of loud but little danger." – Samuel Johnson

"I am not a number, I am a free man!" – Patrick McGoowan

--

Harry really hadn't liked the look Hermione had given him when he had finished speaking, not at all.

The woman opposite of him rubbed at her sleep heavy eyelids muttered something and flicked her wand.

_1:07 A.M._

She sighed and stood. "Harry…" she let the pause be drawn out into a tense silence. "I'll leave this to you. Obviously, you seem to think you know what you're doing. I don't like it, trusting Malfoy like this, but I'll put up with it until he does something to mess things up."

"That's all I ask, 'Mione. That's all I need."

They had talked for hours about the new situation, about Harry's plans to help Draco, and about everything and anything that was recently upsetting Hermione. At the moment, Hermione's only outlet for her emotional distress was Harry since she had yet to bring her parents back to London and no one else was in Grimmauld with them.

Hermione walked to him for a goodnight hug before turning and reaching the door, quickly. She needed some rest and some time to herself, Harry knew. She smiled and mumbled as she walked out, "I should still be here from a few more weeks. At least until Malfoy gets settled in. I think I'll try and strike up a civil relationship with him. Wouldn't that be nice?"

A single heartbeat later, Harry Potter was alone.

His room wasn't anything special. It was on the second floor, next to Sirius's old one and the fourth guest room. He had a fireplace for fire calls and flooing but it was the only major accessory of the room aside from the adjoining, grand bathroom. The floor had been hand washed, by Harry himself, and polished by magic so the wood shone with new life. His bed was a cherry wood, king sized with a long draping forest green canopy and could easily allow three bed occupants with enough room for each to kick and move around in.

In contrast, the bathroom was the sole reason he had chosen and moved to the room. It was gorgeous, huge, and lavishly done. It held a stone tiled floor, a spa-bath, a glass encased shower, Jacuzzi, steel-clawed tub, and a marble countered sink that oozed the words 'higher standard'. The W.C. and bathroom necessities storage were all located in a separate room, branching off from the main bathroom.

A nice long hot shower would be adored right now, but for the moment, Harry also needed to rest.

After all, in a week he would need to make a grand reemergence at the Ministry of Magic.

--

The Ministry hadn't changed much, either, since Harry had last been there.

Harry filed into the courtroom with only a handful of other spectators. It seemed that Harry was the only one who wasn't winded from the long climb downward on the stairs to the courtroom. Then again, everyone else attending could easily pass as his grandfather or mother.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall and bald man of African descent, sat high in his seat among the Wizengamot. He fiddled with his large, gold hoop earring when he spotted Harry settling into a seat and caught his emerald eyes.

Harry nodded to the current and permanent Minister for Magic. If Kingsley was anything to go by, the court trial wasn't going to go as Harry's did so long ago.

As the spectators and Wizengamot took their seats and settled down, the black oak doors at the main entrance to the courts swung open harshly, slamming into the walls unchecked. Two Aurors escorted a disheveled Draco Malfoy into the court room rather harshly by his arms.

Harry thought the bloke on the right looked a lot like Gawain Robards, the current head of the Auror Office.

"There is no need to manhandle our guest, Auror Weasley," Kingsley intoned in a deep, calming voice.

Ronald Bilius Weasley glared at the man who looked to him expectantly. He jerked his hand away as if it burned and pushed Draco forward roughly by his shoulders. He and the other Auror left the courtroom without as much as a word.

Harry rolled his eyes at the display. Ron wouldn't ever grow up when it came to a Malfoy.

Draco scowled at Ron before moving ahead to take his seat in the only chair on the court floor. The tall man took a minute to collect himself, tidying up his ruffled clothes and smoothing his hair smartly. He looked defiant when his gaze came up to meet Kingsley.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, do you know the reason you have been brought forth to court this day?" One of the fifty men asked from behind Kingsley.

Draco sneered and titled his head up. "I am suspect of being a Death Eater beneath former Dark _Wizard_ Voldemort, or Tom Marvolo Riddle, and conspiring against the Ministry of Magic and Harry Potter."

The Wizengamot flinched at the name before regaining their composure. "Indeed. Is it true or not that it was you who made it possible for Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to die at the hands of Death Eaters before you went on the run with one of your teachers?"

The blond seemed to swallow a lump in his throat when the man indirectly mentioned Snape. "Yes," he croaked, probably trying to get a hold of himself.

The Wizengamot murmured amongst themselves for a short moment. "Is it true that you confronted Harry James Potter with the intent to bring him to You-Know-Who during the Final Battle?"

"…Yes."

Gasps trickled out from the crowd, making Draco flinch and turn his head toward the ground.

"I see. Is it true that you received and currently display the Dark Mark upon the skin of your inner left forearm?"

There was a harsh silence as Draco pulled back the sleeve of his elegant wizard robes.

He stuck out his arm and glared at the inquirer. "No," he said firmly.

There were whispers of doubt among the spectators, none of which came from Harry, as one of the Wizengamot came down to check if charms had been placed over the Dark Mark to hide it. After it was confirmed that no Dark Mark was on Draco Malfoy, everyone took their respective seats again.

"Fortunately, there is no Dark Mark. This means that all major charges of you working under Voldemort will be dropped. However, you have confessed to conspiracy, a hand in a murder, and attempt at another's life. For these charges, unless anyone convince the Wizengamot otherwise, you will be confined in Azkaban for the next seventy-five years. Any objections?"

None of the Wizengamot rose in favor of Draco's innocence and now it seemed that it was time for Harry to take a stand.

"I'm sorry, Minister and fellows, I seem to object just a little," he said in a light tone as he stepped from the stands and ventured down onto the court floor where Draco was. He waved off the charm he had cast on himself this morning that changed his hair color and length to conceal his scar. It proved effective, even if Kingsley and a few of the Wizengamot could see through it.

Draco glared up at him from his seat, restraining himself from getting up and apparently screaming at Harry for his interference.

The same man that had been questioning Draco looked to Harry expectantly.

Harry smiled charmingly at him and said smoothly, "I think it would prove wise to ask Malfoy of his reasons for wanting to present me to the Dark Lord and why he helped in the defeat of Dumbledore. Additionally, it may prove prudent to ask of his and his parents' whereabouts during the last few moments of the Final Battle."

"Very well," the man said, running a hand over his plum-colored robes in a nervous fit. "Draco Malfoy, what were your reasons for helping known Death Eaters defeat Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts?"

After a deep breath and a quick glance at Harry, Draco muttered, "My family and I were being threatened by Voldemort that if I should not succeed in killing Dumbledore during my stay at Hogwarts that we would be tortured or killed as He saw fit."

"Was this also the reason for your want to present Harry Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Yes, although I felt I should prove myself as well. I wanted to show I wasn't a weak innocent like someone once told me that I was."

"Where were you during the last moments of the Final Battle?"

"I was trying to find Potter and trying to find my parents. I didn't get far before I heard my parents calling after me. Of course, time seemed to stop before they reached me and all we could do was watch as the savior finally defeated Voldemort. After it was over, my father and mother proceeded to come over to me and check my person for injuries. I was fine, of course, since Potter saved me twice and my self-preservation kicked in. I was no longer interested in the Final Battle after a Death Eater tried to kill me and I saw one of my…friends die." Draco paused and took a deep breath. "After that, everyone just kind of hung out in the Great Hall."

The inquirer paused for a brief moment before turning to Harry. His gaze was steady and there was no tremble to betray the calm he showed before the savior at the fact that he was losing his case against the son of a prominent Death Eater. "Do you, Harry James Potter, before Wizengamot testify for the innocence of Draco Lucius Malfoy under Merlin's Oath?"

"Under Merlin's Oath, I do testify for his innocence," Harry said with a quick smile before taking a step back and crossing his arms over his chest, waiting.

"Very well. All of those in favor of Master Malfoy's innocence please raise your hands."

There was a brief pause as all eyes of the Wizengamot focused on Draco and scrutinized before slowly, ever so slowly, one by one every man covered in plum raised a hand.

Harry glanced to Draco, who was staring hard at them with a slightly awed expression on his features. The brunette smirked and turned his gaze back to Kingsley as he stood and raised his hands for silence as the crowd stirred, voicing their approval or disapproval.

"It would seem that all charges have been dropped from you, Master Malfoy. Unless anyone convince the Wizengamot otherwise, you shall be set free with no mark on your record other than that Master Potter has testified for you," Kingsley murmured, his voice carrying easily in the stillness of the room.

Draco nodded, standing from the chair shakily.

Harry frowned. Did the prat really think he was going to watch him get sent off to Azkaban after he had stopped his two friends from attacking him during the Final Battle or after he did not tell the Death Eaters that he had been Harry and that his friends _were_ the famous Hermione and Ron of the golden trio? He owed Draco as much as Draco owed him. Besides, he couldn't really give Draco his wand back if Draco was sitting in a jail cell now could he?

"However, Master Malfoy, you're father has been charged and convicted of many crimes earlier this week. Therefore, another search of your manor will be initiated for the Wizarding Worlds safety. As the new Master of the Malfoy lineage, do you object to this?" The sparkle in Kingsley's eye gave Harry the distinct impression of Dumbledore and how he always knew an answer before he got one.

"I do not object. In fact, if I could ask it of your search team, could you destroy the Manor when you are done? I intend to rebuild it and rid myself of everything that still lingers with…You-Know-Who's slime," Draco finished awkwardly, sniffing delicately when he had to mimic the distaste everyone else still harbored for saying Voldemort's name.

Kingsley didn't miss a beat as he raised a hand in acknowledgement of Draco's request, scribbling it on a space bit of parchment by his right hand. "I declare the case of Draco Malfoy officially closed. You are all dismissed."

Everyone left the courtroom at once and Draco was in the middle of it all, swept off by the tides of insults or genuine curiosity.

Harry watched all this for a moment with something akin to fondness stirring in his stomach. He turned and waved a goodbye to Kingsley who was gathering up his papers and shaking hands with the other men but caught the gesture nonetheless.

The Minister smiled kindly and inclined his head in Harry's direction before returning to his fellows.

With a matching smile, Harry left the court and prepared for the long climb of steps ahead with all its twist and turns.

Of course, who was he to know how symbolic his climb would be?

* * *

_To Be Continued._

A/N: Ah, this chapter didn't want to be written at all. I had to look up various things about the Ministry's court system which there weren't many references to, since we didn't really get to see it much but I got enough information to throw into my creative process and make up the rest. Draco has no fear of Voldemort's name anymore, obviously, but I'm thinking that many of the Wizarding World do because they still have that lingering thought in the back of their heads that maybe Voldemort could still come back (don't worry, he won't).

A lot of Harry Potter stories I read are very dynamic and have interesting metaphors and as I wrote the bit about Harry preparing to climb the stairs I just got a cool idea. Kudos to you in you know what I am referring to. Harry feels the need to help Malfoy because he has this part of his character (or at least the way I picture him) that tries to see the good in people now that his whole world has been turned over (e.i. Snape) so if you were confused as to why he is helping Malfoy I hope that explains it a bit.

I think it's kind of funny that the time I finished writing this is the same time in the story when Hermione checks the time. I just now noticed that, haha.


	3. Attitude

**C'est La Vie**

**By Kitsune Yarisha**

A/N: The War is finally over and it seems that a time of peace has been reached in the Wizarding World. Wizards and Muggles alike are rejoicing around the world but for two people, the war has left scars that have not yet healed. H/D

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the Harry Potter characters, potions, spells, or any other facet of the series mentioned in this fan work nor do I make a profit from it. The entire franchise belongs, with respect, to one Mrs. J.K. Rowling along with several toy, film, and etcetera companies that are noted and dully mentioned.

* * *

**Chapter Three: **Attitude

"Life is a grindstone; whether it grinds you down or polishes you up depends on what you're made of." – Jacob M. Braude

"There are really only three types of people: those who make things happen, those who watch things happen, and those who say, what happened?" – Ann Landers

--

There weren't many things left in the world that could surprise Harry Potter, but there were still some things and a few of those things were happen now.

The first would be seeing Kreacher both humble and quiet at anyone in the Black House. The second would be someone actively talking with Mrs. Black's portrait. The third would be hearing her not screaming at said person.

The fourth was Draco Malfoy being in his house.

"You…you're here already?"

Mrs. Black's mouth shut immediately, her sharp eyes flying to Harry and her mouth opening to scream again.

Draco managed to beat her to the punch, but in a much more level way. "Potter…" His eyes searched the Boy-Who-Lived, unabashedly. "It's not usually polite to meet your guests in a towel."

A blush sparked across Harry's cheeks as he spluttered, "I didn't think I would be walking into the foyer to see Master Malfoy talking to Mrs. Black!"

Deadpanned, Draco asked Mrs. Black, "Does he walk through here every morning like _that_?"

Mrs. Black nodded, sniffling delicately as she sipped her morning tea, saying in a wounded manner, "Yes, I have to deal with seeing _that_ every morning."

Harry didn't seem to understand what was so bad about his body, besides the fact that she probably was biased as a pureblood. Maybe he was a little on the short side, but he was tanned and toned from Quidditch and Horcrux hunting. Of course, Mrs. Black wouldn't appreciate things like that.

"Why _is_ the Boy-Who-Lived down in the foyer in nothing more than a towel?"

"Oh, you know me, nothing gets between me and my fans, _Draco_," he replied, dryly. Rolling his eyes, he trudged pass the wizard, opening the door just behind him. "The laundry room happens to be down here, Malfoy."

"Laundry room? You don't have your house elf bring you your clothes?" Draco asked nose wrinkling as he followed Harry into the laundry room discreetly watching as Harry picked out all his clothing for today.

"No, I don't," Harry hissed, annoyed by be bugged this early. "Would you like to turn around, Malfoy?" He asked, wriggling his knickers at the blond.

"Ugh, leave it to a former Gryffindor to—Are those Slytherin green boxers?"

"Turn around!"

--

"They've already started?" Harry asked sharply, taken aback.

Draco didn't even flinch. Apparently, he was beginning to become accustomed to low ranking wizards and witches screaming phrases back at him that he just said. "Yes. I did ask them to start as early as possible on destroying the house and taking what they wanted for evidence against my father. It's not that big of a deal." He sipped delicately at his tea and smoothed out his pant legs as he moved to cross them.

"Yes, it is, I wasn't prepared to receive you this morning and look how you ended up catching me!" Harry wailed.

Draco smirked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively, "What a wonderful view that was too, Potter."

Harry blushed hotly; closing his eyes, he stood so abruptly that the chair rocked back. "I don't have to help you, Malfoy! It's you, not me, who owes a Wizard's Debt!"

"I see you find it fit to remind me every another moment, Potter. I don't appreciate someone pointing that out to me when I know it very well myself," Draco scoffed, glaring from beneath his long, blond bangs.

Harry was sure Draco didn't need the stress he was giving him, but how could he help the way he acted after being so rudely intruded upon, especially when he was just getting out of the shower. He huffed, turning to mess with the toast maker and fix himself his own breakfast after so nicely making some tea for Draco. Grudgingly, he asked, "Would you like some toast and taters, Malfoy?"

"If the gracious host would like to make some, Potter."

Harry smashed the egg he had picked up, annoyed. How dare he…!

Immediately, the aristocrat was at his side, prying the egg shell from his hands and throwing them away. "Careful, I've stabbed myself with shell before doing that, Potter. It hurts," he said matter of factly. He looked around and picked up a whisk. Wrinkling his nose he asked, "What in Merlin's name is this for?"

Harry rolled his eyes and plucked the kitchen instrument from his hand, placing it back in the holder. "Back to your seat. You're infuriating enough without being this close to me, Malfoy."

Draco scoffed, turning back and delicately taking his seat and straightening his shirt smartly. "Well, fine. It's not like I wanted to be here with you in the first place," he sneered, turning his face away, "I only accepted your offer because declining it would have been rude."

"You don't have to be here, Malfoy! I was trying to be polite."

"Look, I've already accepted and there's nothing you can do to make me leave."

"You're nothing but a selfish pureblood aristocratic arsehole! No wonder Voldemort wanted you for the Death Eaters!"

"At least I don't associate with blood traitors and cowards who get a kid to fight their battles for them, Potter!"

A pregnant silence filled the kitchen, only broken by Harry washing his hands and preparing the rest of their breakfast meals. He quietly poured himself orange juice, careful not to turn to look at Draco because he knew that he would break down and apologize like he always did.

The orange juice burned on the way down.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that and I don't want to fight with you, okay? I've spent eight years of my childhood hating you for rejecting my friendship and running off with Weasley and Granger. I don't know how to suddenly change the way I am, Potter. This kind of thing becomes habitual after so long. And…" Draco paused and Harry could tell from the shake in his voice that he wasn't really sure where he was going with this.

Harry fiddled with his orange juice, the glass clicking gently as he set it down and pushed it away from him. "I understand." He scraped the eggs and taters from the pan he was cooking them in and place them on a plate before Draco with a small smile. "I didn't mean what I said either. It's the only way I know how to react to you."

And in some way, just hearing Draco apologetic made everything okay between them. It didn't erase the eight years of hate and betrayal and fighting, but it gave them an opportunity to change the people they were becoming around each other.

Maybe… They could even become friends?

Harry chuckled lightly to himself, returning to his orange juice which prompted Draco to look up inquisitively from his homemade meal and raise an eyebrow.

"Somehow," Harry offered, "I can tell this will be a very, uh, interesting experience."

--

"Malfoy! Don't take up all the hot water; some of us have to attend an Auror interview in…in…thirty-bloody-minutes! Hurry it up!" Harry shouted, scrambling to pull together breakfast, his clothes for today so he wouldn't have to come downstairs, and his important papers.

Answering his strained screaming, Draco strolled into the kitchen in a long towel, secured on his hip. "Keep your knickers on, Potter. The shower is now available for my gracious host," he gestured extrovertly to the way he had come from.

Harry wasn't sure to how much he was paying attention to Draco's words instead of his body, but Draco calling for Kreacher pulled him back, eyes averting and a blush bright red on his cheeks. "Right, I'll just be along in a second then. Breakfast's ready on the counter."

Draco nodded, scarcely paying attention as he instructed Kreacher to bring him his clothes on the second wing, a flight below Harry's.

Said brunette was already on his way to the shower, emerging himself in its still warm embrace, and taking care of business in such a fast manner that Draco would most definitely scoff at if he were watching.

Not that Harry would even think of Draco watching him bathe. That would just be _so curious_.

But still… It wasn't like Harry couldn't just ignore the fact that being in the same house with Draco wasn't doing interestingly new things to his body and mind. No…that wasn't the right way to put it. He'd done plenty of things especially when he had first met Cho Chang and he'd also matured physically around Ginny as well.

Boys, though, were not a subject that Harry had been keenly aware of until now. It was odd. He'd like to think himself straight and in love with only Ginny, for whom he still held a burning candle but he couldn't deny the things Draco made him want to do.

He blushed brighter, noticing the languid slowness of his hands now and immediately proceeded to scrub quickly and fiercely, unsure of this train of thought.

Besides, any long and he'd be late for an interview!

* * *

_To Be Continued._

A/N: Ah, so sorry this came out so late but I started it right as school began and I couldn't help but get caught up in the tide of work and suddenly having a social life again. I can see my new work is getting too many hits but to the very small few of you who are interested in this story, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and didn't mind the time skipping and slightly sexually maturing Harry. To those of you who have read the seventh book (which you should have if you're reading this), my ending to the fan fiction is already planned out and I can't wait to hear the outrage caused by it. I'm a masochist like that.

Hopefully I can bang out the next chapter more easily this time, what with my Creative Writing class and other things constantly making me right. Oh well. Hope you liked it and please remember to review because it lets me know what you liked and what I need to fix up on!


End file.
